


Crush

by MysticPuma



Series: Sherlock One-shots [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Established Relationship, M/M, Memories, Mind Palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:10:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticPuma/pseuds/MysticPuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John questions Sherlock on his past relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John stared at his boyfriend worriedly. Any minute now-

"John, I'm bored…" Sherlock muttered. There it was…

"Then do something…" John immediately regretted this line, and said straight after: "But don't do stupid experiments, or shoot holes in the wall…"

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak.

"And NO Cluedo." John added defiantly. Sherlock pouted.

After a moment of silence, Sherlock looked at John.

"Why are you over there, John?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm bored, John…"

John sighed, and placed his laptop on the floor, before walking over to Sherlock, who immediately sat up on the sofa, allowing John room to sit. Sherlock wrapped his arms tightly around John, and leant against him. John let his arms enfold Sherlock, and found himself smiling. Suddenly, his curiousity peeked…

"Sherlock…?" he asked.

"Hm?" came the content reply of the detective.

"When you were at school… Did you ever have a crush on someone…?" John enquired, looking down at his boyfriend. Sherlock looked up at him.

"No. I never saw the point." He answered. "You?" he asked, his tone particularly un-interested.

John chuckled. Sherlock frowned. "Only one." John muttered. Sherlock closed his eyes, and John sighed. Sherlock was already asleep. John was partly glad, but annoyed that Sherlock had jumped to the conclusion that it had been some boring girl that was one other person he could hate… John let his mind slip back to his earlier days, in high school…

\---

"Who's that?" A chorus of young girls giggled.

"What a weirdo…" Some boys muttered.

John went over to his friends, and his eyes locked with someone else's across the room. Someone he'd never seen before…

"Hey guys…?" he began, not taking his eyes off the stranger. "Who is he?"

"That guy? Some posh guy, rich family. I heard his brother's tryin' to get him to make some friends by sending him to public school. He's been home-schooled…" Mike explained. John nodded.

He couldn't take his eyes off the strange boy. His dark curled hair, and his striking, silvery-blue eyes. His angular cheek-bones and pale complexion. Each piece of him was perfectly sculpted and fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, and John felt a tug in his heart at the beauty of the mysterious creature. The boy's eyes narrowed in confusion at John, and he looked away, blushing. Thankfully, none of his friends noticed.

"What's his name?" John asked quietly.

"Sherlock Holmes." Said his friends in unison, chuckling. "Posh git." Mike added with a snort.

John risked another glance up. Sherlock was observing the dining hall with a distinct look of disgust. John then saw Anderson, the school bully, walk past and pretend to trip, throwing his lunch towards the new boy. John's eyes went wide as the food flew through the air, but missed Sherlock by miles as he dodged quickly, smirking at the older boy. John glowed with happiness as Anderson stalked away, his face contorted in a scowl of defeat.

Sherlock sat on his own, and John contemplated going over and talking to him, getting to know him… But John was way out of the rich young boy's league, and besides… He probably wasn't even gay.

John sighed. His first crush, and it had to be on a guy. He'd never mention this to anyone.

Before the week was over, Sherlock Holmes had left again, refusing to stay in the comprehensive, and choosing home schooling. He hadn't looked at John once more during the three days he'd been there, but John took comfort in the fact that to be quite honest, he hadn't looked at anyone.

John thought he'd never see the beautiful boy again…

\---

John chuckled to himself, twirling Sherlock's hair in his hands. Sherlock's eyes shot open.

"What are you chuckling about, John?"

"Nothing…"

And he looked down into those eyes, and saw the confused young boy again. John smiled and kissed his boyfriend happily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries to recall his small experiences with school and realises something…

Sherlock never dreamt. Ever. He barely ever slept, so that might have explained it.

Currently, Sherlock was lying against the warm body of his boyfriend, John Hamish Watson, on the sofa of their flat in 221B Baker Street. John had fallen asleep a few moments ago, their conversation of earlier hanging in the air. Sherlock sighed. John hadn't had many crushes, but did that mean he still loved the girl he'd crushed on.

She was probably dull. With a boring name, like Sarah, or Molly, or Mary… She probably had blonde hair, and piercing green, or many blue eyes… She was probably hot as hell.

For the first time in his life, Sherlock felt jealous. He was jealous of whoever this girl was, and was desperate to find something to show it was just him being paranoid…

He sat up, laying John gently onto the arm of the sofa. He placed his hands into his thinking position; pressed together, as if in prayer, under his chin. He closed his eyes and entered his Mind Palace.

_He zoomed through the corridors, skipping whole years at a time. He came across many memories of John within his thoughts. The first time they'd met; the restaurant; the tramway, and plenty of other memories surfacing. Sherlock pushed past them, back into his younger years._

_First… Primary education. He had been forced to attend ten different schools before his mother relented and allowed him to be home-schooled._

_Each school had lasted no more than ten days. Then, Sherlock had sulked in his room, and occasionally tried to blow up the house…_

_He fought a smile at these memories, and pushed into the school days. These memories had been buried. He'd been meaning to delete them, but had never had the energy or time. They were tiny memories anyway, taking up next to no space in his hard drive. In total, his time spent in Primary School amounted to less than a single half term. He skimmed over the first school's memories. No girls, no boys had caught his eye._

_The second school, someone had talked to him once… But he'd ignored her, and hadn't found her in the least bit interesting or attractive…_

_The third school. Not even worth it. He'd been immediately ridiculed there, and hadn't even lasted one day._

_The following three schools were similar, with no one talking to him other than to mock him, or annoy him._

_The seventh and eighth schools had lasted the longest. Ten days each, in which Sherlock had spoken to about 5 people across the two schools. In the first, two boys had tried to befriend him, and nearly succeeded, until Sherlock realised they were only after his money, and he left the school. In the second, two girls had become smitten with him, and one boy had clung to him as a fellow freak. Sherlock found it interesting to study their behaviour, until he grew bored and left._

_As for the ninth school, Sherlock preferred not to think about it… He tried to this one time, and found nothing… He deleted it. All that lingered in that room was a feeling of fear, and Sherlock knew that even if he delved in and recovered the memories, they would not hold what he was searching for…_

_The tenth school was dull. Nothing had happened. The teachers had been of a terribly low calibre, and Sherlock had known more than most of them put together. The children were zombies, and Mycroft had in fact been the one to say "Mummy, he_ can't _go to_ that _place!" For once, Sherlock had been grateful for his brother's existence, as he had convinced Mummy to allow Sherlock to be home-schooled, as he had been._

Sherlock sighed. Nothing in the primary school years… months… weeks. There were around four weeks in total… He took a deep breath, and went into the high school attempts.

_There were less of these rooms. Mycroft had taken this over, as more of an attempt to give Sherlock a "normal" childhood, and get him some friends. Sherlock refused to comply. He found each school more annoying, dull and stupid. The teachers knew nothing._

_Only three high schools. That was it. Mycroft had given up after the final one. Sherlock combed through these more carefully. If he'd_ ever _had a crush, it would be here… Right?_

_The first school… Large, annoyingly so. Far too many people. Sherlock spent a week there, before he was severely bored of it, and insisted he be pulled out, before his brain began to rot; which he knew it would._

_The second school. More bullying. But by that time, Sherlock was relatively good at avoiding it. Being polite to them to avoid confrontation, or dodging their blows when they attacked anyway. Only twice did he get his head shoved down a toilet, an achievement he was relatively proud of._

_The final school…_

Sherlock stopped. He doubted there would be anything in the last one. The probability was ridiculously slim. He we about to step out of his Mind Palace completely, when he saw John's sleeping form. He _had_ to find something… Something to assure him that a childhood crush couldn't continue now… He reluctantly returned.

Desperate now, Sherlock decided he would try to relive the memory… Anything was better than nothing. He was sure nothing had happened, but he had to be sure.

_"Come on, Sherlock. It won't be that bad." Mycroft, now desperate to get his brother some friends, said, leading the brooding fourteen year old into the school. Sherlock's arms were folded over his chest in defiance._

_"It'll be just like the last one, Mycroft." Sherlock muttered._

_"Of course it won't!" Mycroft cried exasperatedly. His patience with his younger brother was wearing thin. Sherlock thought he was so perfect…_ Then again… _Mycroft thought._ He is related to me, which must give him quite the ego boost… _Yes, Mycroft thought he was perfect._

_Mycroft forced his brother to unfold his arms, and he pushed him into the dining hall. Sherlock surveyed the room with disinterest. So many stupid people…_

Sherlock's eyes shot open in alarm.

"John?" he muttered to himself. But John stirred, and sat up straight, suddenly alert.

"What's wrong!" he cried, going into soldier mode.

"N-nothing. Sorry I woke you." Sherlock said, his face not moving from its expression of shock.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Sherlock looked at John, his face deadly serious. His eyes softened as he studied John's face.

"Sherlock… What's wrong?" John asked. Sherlock sighed inwardly. John always knew when something was wrong.

"I'm fine, John. Just thinking."

"Have you been in your Mind Palace?"

"Yes."

"What were you trying to remember?"

"My last high school…" Sherlock muttered. John stopped.

"W-what?" he stuttered.

 _Sherlock's eyes stopped for a moment at the sight of the young boy. He was staring at him, as though Sherlock were the only human being alive. Sherlock was suddenly lost in his eyes… But he snapped himself out of it._ What are you doing? _He scolded himself._ No feelings.

_But he couldn't stop the flutter in his heart when the young boy looked away, a light blush gracing his cheeks. Sherlock mentally slapped himself, and turned away._

_Suddenly, he saw another boy walking towards him, a rather sloppy lunch in his hands. Sherlock saw him pretending to trip, and stepped aside as the food went soaring through the air._

_Out of the corner of his eye, the boy was looking again, his eyes transfixed on Sherlock, and his face unable to rid itself of a beautiful smile._

"John… Would you smile?" Sherlock asked, his voice completely serious, but uncharacteristically gentle. John frowned in confusion.

"Why?"

"Just… Think of something happy." Sherlock suggested. John thought for a moment, and then… There it was. The same smile. Sherlock's eyes lit up, and a grin spread across his face.

"What is this about, Sherlock?" John asked.

"What were you thinking of?" Sherlock ignored John's question.

"The time that the school bully tried to bully someone, but failed." John said quietly, knowing Sherlock wouldn't realise who he meant.

But Sherlock's grin widened.

"Really?" he asked, his voice calculating, inquisitorial, as though he was interrogating John for a case.

"Yeah. He was walking towards someone, and he 'tripped'…" John held his hands up to create the quotation marks in the air. "He was trying to splatter this person with food, and they just stepped out of the way." John explained, with a small smile.

"Who was it?" Sherlock asked, struggling to sound oblivious, considering the grin plastered on his face. He cursed his body for betraying him.

"The bully? Anderson…" John muttered. Sherlock sniggered under his breath. He knew he recognised Anderson when they'd first met. He'd never dwelled on it though, Anderson wasn't worth it.

"I meant the person who dodged him." He said, his smooth baritone voice betraying nothing.

"Oh." John blushed. He couldn't tell him… "I don't know, really."

Sherlock's face fell. _Damn…_

"What's wrong!" John exclaimed.

"Nothing." Sherlock returned to normal. "You going to tell me about this girl you liked at school then?"

"Huh?"

"The one crush you had. What was she like?" Sherlock asked, turning around so he was leaning on the arm of the sofa, with his legs tucked beneath his chin. He looked at John, then at the sofa, indicating for him to sit down. John obliged. He took a deep breath.

"I never said it was a girl." He muttered. Sherlock's brow furrowed.

"It was a guy?"

"Yeah…"

"I thought you said you weren't gay." Sherlock mumbled. "Although I suppose that's null and void now."

"I said you were an exception! I'm straight… Except with you."

"Then who was this guy you liked?" Sherlock was confused now.

"The one who humiliated Anderson…" John muttered, annoyed. Sherlock froze. The corner of his lip twinged, before he broke into the largest grin he ever had before. "What?"

"It was me?" Sherlock asked, not bothering to disguise his happiness now. John stared at him in shock.

"You… You remember?" He asked. Then he realised. "Of course… You remember Anderson tripping. You probably found it amusing." John laughed, a little sadly at his realisation, looking down. Sherlock cupped his face and lifted it up.

"I remember you." Sherlock said quietly. John frowned, trying to pretend he didn't understand. Sherlock smiled. "I remember seeing you… Across the room. You turned away from me, blushing. Then you smiled when Anderson fell over, and your eyes lit up. It was the singular most beautiful sight I ever saw." Sherlock admitted, feeling like a sentimental idiot. John blushed.

"You didn't look at me though." He muttered. "When Anderson fell over, you just went and sat down."

"I looked out of the corner of my eye, John."

"You said you never had a crush at school."

"Well. I didn't. But then I never really stayed at school, did I?" Sherlock countered with a wink and a cheeky smile, just like when they'd officially met.

John was speechless. Sherlock smiled. He liked it when he left John speechless. He pressed their lips together.

As they parted, John smiled.

"I guess we never really got over each other."

Sherlock just chuckled, and leant in to kiss John again.

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry for any OOC-ness!


End file.
